


Los Angeles Isn't Magical

by flyingthesky



Category: Actor RPF, Disney RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingthesky/pseuds/flyingthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selena's story is the kind of fairytale that Disney sells. Taylor's story is the kind of fairytale that people used to tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Los Angeles Isn't Magical

**Author's Note:**

  * For [presentpathos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/presentpathos/gifts).



Selena and Taylor end up at a lot of award shows together, the kind of function where you shake too many hands and get too many hugs from people that you're pretty sure you were introduced to at some point that you don't remember the names of, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes Selena and Taylor are in the same building or at the same party all night and they barely even see each other in passing, separated by the seemingly endless stream of people that need to be talked to and smiled at.

Most of the time, though, Selena and Taylor find their way to each other at some point, stowing away in a dark corner with glasses of champagne they're not supposed to have—or, well. Selena's still not supposed to have them, but Taylor's allowed now. No one really pays attention at events like this, and even if they did there are too many people who are willing to get Selena what she wants, Taylor included.

"Do you think," Selena asks after one award show, possibly one for music, "that _anyone_ has fun at these things? Or that anyone actually knows any of the people they're trying to network with?"  
"You have to make your own fun," Taylor says, grinning, "and not really. Isn't that the point, though? People are always coming up to me at these things and asking if they can collaborate and I say yes, because they might not remember in the morning."  
"I don't even remember what awards you won," Selena says, shaking her head, "I always try to keep track, but you have so many of them."

Taylor sips at her glass, smiling around the rim. The truth is that she doesn't really remember either. There are a lot of them, and Taylor tries not to keep track, because they don't really mean anything to her beyond being proof that she's made it this far. That she's living in a big ol' city while all the people that heckled her are still drunk, in the shitty dive bars she started in and rambling about how she can't sing. Selena's reasons behind why she's reaching for the stars are different, Taylor knows, but for her it'll always be about proving everyone wrong.

"They don't really matter," Taylor says, "Are you coming over to my place after all this?"

She waves her glass around, indicating the expanse of the party, and Selena looks out on it. She takes a sip of her champagne, and thinks it over. They're in Los Angeles, she knows (you can always tell when you're in Los Angeles, Selena's discovered) and technically she has her own place in the city too. It's not a home, though, just a place to crash when she's in the city for too many days. All of Taylor's places are much more like houses than Selena's. Her house is wherever she is, and Selena likes that about her.

"Yeah," she says, "I don't like being alone in Los Angeles."

If she really didn't want to be alone, of course, she wouldn't have to be. The thing about being in the entertainment industry is that you never have to be alone if you don't want to be, but Selena would rather not spend the night with Justin or Carlos or Leighton or any of the other contacts in her phone. She misses Taylor, because that's the price of reaching the stars: always missing people.

"No one does," Taylor says, gently bumping shoulders with Selena, "Los Angeles is a terrible place to be alone—it's a lot different from Texas, isn't it?"

The drawl in Taylor's voice is purposefully more pronounced, and Selena has to hide a giggle. She's never had as much of a drawl, but it's still a piece of home and Selena appreciates that.

"Do you ever just look at where you are and wonder how you got here?"

Glancing over at Taylor, Selena waits her her answer. She knows that as cheerful as Taylor seems all the time, she's fought a lot to get where she is. Selena hasn't, not really, and she doesn't know what that's like. She knows what being crushed by Disney is like, because she still can't get away from them, but she doesn't know what fighting for what she wants is like. Her story is the kind of fairytale that Disney sells. Taylor's story is the kind of fairytale that people used to tell.

"All the time," Taylor whispers, "It feels like it can be taken away at any moment."  
"Because it can be," Selena says, "and nobody knows that better than us."  
"Guess we better enjoy it while it lasts."

Tipping her glass toward Selena, Taylor finishes off the rest of her champagne. Selena does the same.

"We'd better get back out there before someone starts looking for us," Taylor says, "Text me when you leave, yeah? I'll make popcorn and we can watch whatever terrible tv is on at 3am."  
"There's never anything on at 3am," Selena says, grinning, "I'll text you."

With a small wave, Selena floats back out into the party. She immediately surrounded by people she mostly recognizes, and Taylor hangs back for a moment to watch her. Sometimes, Taylor's surprised that Selena's never been an actual Disney princess. Smiling, Taylor walks back out into the party and is immediately surrounded by her own cluster of acquaintances. She loses track of Selena until she's at home and making popcorn when Selena texts her.

She's in the house not that long after, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment and coming out in more comfortable clothes. Walking back out, Selena settles down on the couch next to Taylor and snags a handful of popcorn, even as Taylor tries to pull the bowl away.

"You're not going to eat it all anyway," Selena says, rolling her eyes, "You're going to eat like three-fourths of it and then complain that you're going to get fat and give the rest to me anyway. I'm just taking my share now."  
"I don't _always_ do that," Taylor says, frowning.  
"Yeah," Selena laughs, "you do. Oh, infomercials!"

Tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth, Selena turns her attention toward the TV. Someone is trying to sell a product Selena doesn't need, but might end up buying anyway. Taylor places the bowl of popcorn between them, and Selena smiles, taking another handful.

Sometimes it's nice to pretend to be normal.


End file.
